


in the middle of something

by wordsareleftbehind (froggydarren)



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Crisscolfer Week, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 17:04:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froggydarren/pseuds/wordsareleftbehind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Ficlet written for CC week, day 5, <b>Yin and Yang</b></i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	in the middle of something

It's strange, the way they are. On one hand, they mirror each other and there is a list somewhere that has bullet points on things they've said similarly or identically, on things they've both said they liked. On the other hand, there are things that make those around them wonder how their home isn't a constant battlefield.

Chris likes take-out, Darren prefers to be either eating out or preparing something from his Mom's recipe book. Darren likes glasses, Chris only wears them when absolutely necessary, which to his dismay is happening more and more. Chris gets lost in books as easily as Darren gets lost in movies. Darren _needs_ constant noise around him of the musical kind, while Chris throws everyone including Brian out when he's trying to focus. Chris stays in character between takes while Darren immediately shoots for the nearest piano or other instrument in the choir room. Darren likes the freedom of being in the audience at open-air gigs while Chris appreciates the privacy that the VIP area provides him with.

They discuss, debate, compromise and sometimes go their separate ways when one of those things comes up. There have been rather epic fights on issues that were more or less important. Ashley and Joey have weeks when the ringtone for their best friends is set to an alert tone when something of even vague importance is coming up. There are two rooms in Chris' new house set up, one for each of them, when they can't see eye to eye, because neither one of them wants to use the master bedroom with the other one somewhere else in the house.

But it all disappears when Darren leaves a note on the door of Chris' room that has a drawing of sad eyes and a film cell on it and Chris knows to head straight for the living room. It ends when he brings a tray with Darren's favorite snacks and a can of Diet Coke is already waiting on the coffee table. There's nothing more to be tense about when Darren picks just the movie that Chris was thinking of all day, nor when Chris snuggles in close and tangles his fingers with Darren's, kissing the knuckles of Darren's hand.

It's little things, like Darren giving Chris ideas for parties and costumes even if it's not deliberate. It's details like Chris muttering lines that eventually make it into Darren's lyrics or when Darren suddenly reminds Chris of one of the characters in his books.

"How did you know?" Chris used to ask in the early days, when Darren seemed to have anticipated something that Chris wasn't even sure he wanted until then.

"I know," Darren always replied, "I know _you_."

Darren never asks. It's yet another difference between them. He takes it all in stride, smiles when Chris provides the final touch to something that Darren has been struggling with. There's always a thank you and a kiss when Chris comes up with the final word for a song, or the instrument that it should be played on. But he never questions, like he never did wonder why it was Chris he fell for, why he'd allowed his whole world to turn upside down.

Chris does. He analyzes, wonders, dissects everything into little details trying to find the common string, the thing that would make it all fall into place. There are lists, notes, scribbles of what seems like nonsense to anyone else but him. He's spent hours looking at Darren early in the morning, trying to explain to himself what made him fall for the boy who is so dramatically _not_ what he'd ever thought he wanted.

It's something that Darren knows and always soothes away the frown from Chris' brows with a kiss and a smile and the comfort of "sometimes you just know, Chris". But Chris doesn't, so it comes back, because there's the never ending thread of _how can we be so different and yet I can't imagine anyone who understands me better_. There's no logic, just faith, and while Chris has faith, this puzzles him.

They're yin and yang, they're lock and key, they're pieces of a puzzle, they're missing parts of each other and one day, maybe, he'll understand.

"Or maybe one day," Darren whispers when Chris voices his thoughts, "You'll believe and maybe that will be the day that I will start looking for an explanation."

Because they've done that too, switched habits, passed hobbies on to each other, exchanged favorites. There are things Chris has been asked about because people were used to Darren saying them, there are mannerisms Darren has that make everyone around them think of Chris. Sometimes, they're completely irrelevant things that make them wonder.

"Hey, isn't that my hoodie?" Darren asks when he tugs on the edge in an attempt to get it off Chris.

"Not anymore, it isn't, didn't you decide that hoodies aren't your thing anymore?" Chris smirks, referencing a conversation about being more mature.

"So you decided to just take it?"

"Maybe it's my turn to be college boy," slips from Chris' lips, muffled by the hoodie being tugged over his head, "Now that you're the serious suit type."

"I'm _not_ ," Darren tries to fight a losing battle because he knows the roles they play on the outside have changed somewhat.

"Come on," Chris laughs, "Let me be your boy toy for a while."

That's all that Darren needs to forget what they were discussing and to stop wondering how their differences might pull them apart. Because they have those, but they also have kisses like this, when nothing they don't have in common matters. When all that either of them can focus on is that they're blessedly alone, in _their_ bed, with the whole world a million miles away. And yin and yang do, after all, make a perfect circle.


End file.
